Meet me at midnight down by the lake,
By the tree that looks like your granny.
Knots and gnarls won’t scare us away.
But the resemblance is truly uncanny.

Don’t tell anyone where we will meet.
Our secret, just you me and your granny.
Bring a torch in case you lose your way.
Say nothing to that friend of yours, Annie.

We can kiss and cuddle under the moon.
If it rains I’ll find somewhere to shelter.
I’ll bring a blanket to lay on the ground.
Did I tell you, I think you’re a real belter?

Don’t be frightened I’ll look after you.
I’ll keep you safe and warm as toast.
I’ll get you home by the break of dawn,
And I promise you won’t see a ghost.

You don’t want to meet me there at all?
Tell me, is it something I’ve said or done?
It’s the thought of your granny there with us.
I can understand that wouldn’t be fun.

A different tree, could that persuade you?
No, the image is now securely embedded.
The blanket got you worried as well.
It made you wonder where this was headed.

How about we meet somewhere else entirely?
Perhaps outside the cinema by the bus shed.
We’ll see that film that reminds me of your Mum.
What’s it called, Night of the Living Dead?